


How Many Times I’ve Had to Recover

by YoureMyTicket



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, Post S2, and also bed sharing, and d'Artagnan and Aramis are there in spirit (and conversation), essentially the theme of this fic is:, girls night girls night girls night, the Dauphin and Louis make very brief appearances, there's some heart-to-heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28020627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoureMyTicket/pseuds/YoureMyTicket
Summary: Three days after her wedding she received a message from Anne asking her to come to the palace.The new royal governess has been dismissed and Anne asks Constance to mind the Dauphin for a couple nights until her replacement arrives.
Relationships: Ana de Austria | Anne d'Autriche & Constance Bonacieux
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	How Many Times I’ve Had to Recover

_I'm thinking about how many times I've had to recover_

_All I do is start again_

Three days after her wedding she received a message from Anne asking her to come to the palace.

Anne cheerfully welcomed Constance into the nursery, bouncing the Dauphin on her hip and waving his little fist in greeting. After passing him over, Constance watched out of the corner of her eye as Anne visibly sighed, either out of relief or tiredness or a combination of both. She looked pale, and now that she didn't have her son in her arms, it seemed almost as if she had become smaller, weaker even.

"Your Majesty, is everything all right?"

"Françoise has been dismissed," Anne explained, referring to the woman who had taken over as the Dauphin's governess. "In truth she should never have been given the appointment, but after everything that happened, I didn't want to challenge the King's choice. It didn't take long though, for her to prove where her loyalties remained," Anne said darkly, and Constance tilted her head in question. "She's a relative of the Cardinal, assigned to my household years ago when he and the King banished those who were considered more loyal to me than them."

"Forgive me, Majesty, but the Cardinal is dead, how can she…?"

"The Dauphin started crying in the middle of the night and when I came to check on him I overheard her saying he was lucky the Cardinal was dead, for he wouldn't have tolerated the possibility of a bastard son of a soldier and a Spaniard on the throne of France," Anne told her, crossing her arms as if she were hugging herself. "She said he wouldn't have let the matter go so easily and neither will she."

Constance gasped softly and looked down at the baby in her arms. She couldn't understand how people like Françoise or Marmion could threaten to harm an innocent child who had no control over the circumstances of his birth. "And you told the King this?" The King had publicly forgiven Anne and acknowledged the boy as his own after Rochefort was killed, but the idea had been planted in his mind, and she wasn't sure if he would ever be entirely convinced that the accusation was a lie.

"Only what she called him. But it was clear she didn't care much for him beyond the position he gave her. She wasn't attentive to him, and would leave him to tire himself out crying than try to comfort him or send for me."

Constance gave her a sympathetic look. Marguerite had been like that. She'd try to comfort him, but would often give up and put him back in his crib or turn him over to his nurses. And as badly she felt for what happened to the woman, Constance never felt that she cared for the boy that deeply, and the way she betrayed him and Anne only solidified that belief.

"Thankfully, the King acquiesced and is allowing me to recall one of my former ladies, Marie-Catherine, to replace her. I've already written to her and I'm sure she'll accept, but it will be at least a couple of days until she can get here."

"I can stay with the Dauphin as long as you need, Majesty," Constance assured her.

Anne smiled graciously. "I know I said to take some time to yourself after the wedding but I didn't want that woman with him for one more day and…"

"My husband went off to war," Constance finished for her.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"My whole purpose for coming to this country was to prevent a war." A flicker of a smile appeared on her face and she stroked a finger along her son's cheek. "Well, half my purpose."

"Do you think it will last long, the war?"

Anne's hand fell to her side. "I fear that if both sides are evenly matched it will come down to who can withstand the toll of war longer. The King and my brother are both proud, stubborn men, and any level of defeat will not be an easy thing to accept for either of them. My hope is that Tréville and the musketeers will tip the scales in our favour." She laid a hand on Constance's arm. "And the others will watch over d'Artagnan, I'm sure. They'll see that he returns home to you."

Constance smiled weakly in response. It might be years before she saw d'Artagnan again. Anne was right though, Athos and Porthos would do their best to keep him out of trouble, they had told her so before the regiment rode out. They had been teasing her husband, but when they met her eyes, she knew they had meant what they said.

Just Athos and Porthos though. D'Artagnan had informed her with a bowed head and slumped shoulders that Aramis had chosen not to return with them, that he was staying at Douai.

Did Anne know that?

"Majesty, there's something I have to tell you."

Anne raised her eyebrows and waited for Constance to continue.

Her eyes flitted around the room to make sure they were alone. "Aramis…"

"Resigned his commission and retired to a monastery," said Anne.

Constance raised her own eyebrows. "You know then?" Had Aramis met with her or left her a message?

"Tréville told me," Anne explained. "I think he was worried about how I would react to news of his regiment down the line, if they suffered casualties." She looked down and twisted a ring on one of her fingers. "I'll admit it is a relief to know he won't be in danger but…" She trailed off and looked back up at the Dauphin in Constance's arms before taking a steadying breath. "But I'll still worry about the others, especially d'Artagnan, for your sake, and, well, I like to think of us all as friends."

"As you should," Constance readily agreed. She would even go so far as to call them all family, including Anne and the Dauphin. On more than one occasion she had thought the boy to be like a nephew to her, and Anne a sister. And considering how close Aramis was to the others, they probably thought of themselves as uncles and brothers-in-law to some degree, their loyalty to Anne and the Dauphin fueled by more than just duty. "They'll come back to us."

MMMMMMMMMM

While the wet-nurse tended to the Dauphin for his late-night feed, Constance took a break and then came back with some fresh water for the room.

Walking into the nursery, she was surprised to see Anne there in her chemise and a robe, sitting in a chair and holding the Dauphin against her shoulder as she watched the wet-nurse tidy up.

Setting down the pitcher of water, she went over to Anne. "I can take him if you want to return to bed." His hungry cries must have woken her, though judging by the shadows under her eyes, she might've never gone to sleep.

Anne shook her head lightly. "I've taken to sitting with him once he's nursed," she answered, giving a small smile to the wet-nurse as the woman curtsied before leaving.

Pulling another chair closer, Constance took a seat next to them. The Dauphin looked like he had already fallen back to sleep, his face slack against the cloth draped over Anne's shoulder. Sitting on the edge of the chair, she waited for Anne's eyes to meet hers. "Majesty, are you all right?"

Anne's eyes quickly skirted away and she shook her head again. "I'm fine, I just haven't been sleeping well."

Constance wasn't surprised. As far as she knew, they hadn't stopped for long on the way to the convent, then Anne was put under house arrest the following night, and nearly killed the day after that. Constance had barely slept herself during that time. Even now it was hard not to think of Lemay's execution, and how close she had come to the same fate. Were the events still troubling Anne? The pending war? Aramis leaving?

She waited for Anne to offer more of an explanation, to open up about what was behind the haunted look in her eyes, but she only stared at the floor, and continued to run her thumb back and forth across her son's back.

"Majesty, you took me on as your confidant, _confide_ in me," Constance implored her.

Anne's eyes rose up to meet hers and she held her gaze for several seconds before taking a deep breath. "When I close my eyes, he comes for me," she admitted in a quiet voice. "And I can't stop myself from thinking about what would have happened had you not arrived."

Constance felt a wave of anger crash over her. Rochefort. That monster was dead and still he was hurting Anne. She should have rushed over and kicked him square in the face when she came into that room and saw what he was doing. She should have picked up the hairpin and stabbed his other eye; made him unable to look upon Anne ever again. She should have killed him.

She should have been there.

The white hot rage was replaced by ice cold guilt. "I shouldn't have left you alone." Always by her side, that's Anne had told her when she took her on.

"Oh Constance, please don't be so hard on yourself. You _were_ there for me. And you didn't know about the crucifix or that he would react in such a way. If anyone's to blame for his actions it's me."

Now it was Constance's turn to shake her head. "No, you're right, you couldn't have known he would react in such a way." She thought of dear Lemay, and how well he had taken her rejection. "The man was mad, and no matter what you did you didn't deserve that."

MMMMMMMMMM

Constance realized by the end of the next day that Anne hadn't just taken to sitting with the Dauphin once he'd nursed, but seemed to hardly leave the nursery at all if she could help it. When it was time for the baby to be fed Constance took the time to tend to herself or run an errand or simply rest for a bit, but Anne would come and sit with the wet-nurse, and as she left Constance would hear Anne chatting with the woman about the Dauphin's health and how he was changing from day to day.

The King came to visit before the Dauphin was put to bed for the night. Anne passed her son over to her husband, who joyfully regarded how much heavier he felt since the day before, and kissed him on both cheeks before handing him back over. He politely asked how Anne was and she answered that their son was keeping her busy, especially now that he was starting to crawl. The King did seem genuinely pleased at that but otherwise the meeting felt perfunctory, though even he noted that he hoped she was taking the time to get proper rest.

Still, it was nice to see the King being conciliatory and attentive to Anne in any capacity, although Constance wondered if the decrease in Anne's duties had to do with the impending war with Spain. Everyone coming to the palace seemed to be connected to war preparations, and Anne would only go and give a royal hello before the person or persons walked off with the King and Tréville to talk with various ministers and such. The King seemed to be the kind of man who wouldn't consider involving a woman in discussions concerning warfare, even though the woman in question could provide wise counsel as well as insight on the enemy nation, but that was probably also seen as a reason to keep her away; Anne had written to Spain against his order. Constance knew Anne had done it under Rochefort's influence, and that it was in order to protect her son, and she was sure the King knew that, still, she had fraternized with the enemy and Constance worried that the King remained suspicious of her despite his proclamations to the contrary.

"Madame d'Artagnan now, isn't it?" the King asked, turning to Constance. "Married my champion musketeer before he left for the front?"

She nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good, he'll fight harder then, wanting to return home to his wife and give you a child of your own, if he hasn't already," he said with a grin, and Constance glanced away, uncomfortable. Thinking of how long the war could last and there being no guarantee that d'Artagnan would return even when it did, she hoped she wasn't with child. She wouldn't want to go through that without him; she could see how hard it was for Anne to raise Aramis' son without him, and she had the King along with a small army of servants to help her. "But I thank you for stepping in again and taking care of my son while we await Madame de Sénécey's arrival," the King continued. "The last two governesses appear to have not been up to the task but the Queen was adamant that her former lady would be more than capable."

"Of course, Sire, it is an honour to care for the Dauphin."

He nodded then, and turned back to Anne and the Dauphin, giving his son's hand a shake before saying goodnight and leaving.

MMMMMMMMMM

Anne came again after the Dauphin's late-night feed, and Constance sat with her amongst the few flickering candles softly illuminating the nursery, the Dauphin cradled in his mother's arms.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but your marriage to Bonacieux, I assume it was not a love match?" Anne asked, breaking the silence that had settled.

Constance shook her head. "A business arrangement. I did not love him, but I told myself that I was doing it for my family, so that they wouldn't have to worry about providing for me, and I did love working with all the cloth."

Anne gave a small smile at the mention of Constance doing a duty to her family, and Constance marveled at the amount of things she had in common with the Queen of France. How many times had Anne told herself the same thing?

"And then what was it like to marry d'Artagnan? To marry for love?"

Constance tried to think of something poetic to respond with, something lofty and romantic that d'Artagnan would have easily come up with, but just a single word was coming to mind: "Freeing."

Anne laughed softly at that as her gaze fell, and Constance felt immense sorrow for her friend as she remembered their conversation while Constance was still in mourning. Anne could not leave her husband as Constance had, and even if the King died before her, she would always be beholden to her duty, to France.

"What was your wedding like?" Constance asked tentatively, curiously, wanting to fill the silence but unsure if Anne would want to be reminded of something that effectively served as her prison sentence.

Blinking, Anne looked up at her with slightly raised eyebrows. "Well, the King and I were married by proxy first, so I stood with my father's first minister," she said, brightening up, seemingly glad to simply recount something and move the conversation along. "I remember trying very hard to pay attention and I was later told that I had looked very serious."

Constance smiled softly, imagining a young Anne and her focused gaze while the men around her probably couldn't wait to get back to whatever better thing they had to do.

"It was the nuptial mass where the King and I stood together as husband and wife," Anne added.

"That must have been grand."

Anne looked past her as she recalled the day. "Oh, I wore this heavy, heavy velvet gown and was positively covered with jewels, and the ceremony lasted for hours, I thought I might melt into a puddle by the end of it," she said, eliciting a small chuckle from Constance. "And I kept having to fix my crown; it was so big it kept sliding to the side." Anne laughed too at that and she shook her head at the memory. "But whenever I looked over to Louis and saw that grin of his, I could not help but smile back."

The King's wide smile was an infectious one, Constance had to admit, smiling wider even now as she imagined the teenaged king reassuring his new queen with it.

Anne grew quiet though, and looked down at her sleeping son, who still held one of her fingers in his grasp. Constance sat there, and patiently waited for her to gather her thoughts. "When the Dauphin was born," she began, "and the King had come to see him for the first time, I suddenly became so nervous that he would be able to tell...once he looked…" Anne glanced up at Constance then, and once she nodded that she understood what she meant, Anne took a deep breath and continued, "but then he gave that smile and I knew my son was safe."

MMMMMMMMMM

Marie-Catherine arrived the following day. She was a pleasant, easy-going woman with kind eyes who took to the Dauphin right away. Anne had brightened considerably upon seeing the woman again, embracing her and then sitting on the nursery floor with her and Constance while they played with the Dauphin and caught up after their years apart.

Constance was alone with Marie-Catherine now, helping her settle in and put the Dauphin to bed since night had fallen. The little prince had started crying again, but he had already been fed and changed, nor was he running a temperature, so they concluded that he probably just wanted to be held. Constance held him first, but he wouldn't settle, and so she passed him over Marie-Catherine, who began to sing to him. With a pang she was reminded of how Aramis had sang to little baby Henry to stop him crying, how comfortable he became with him despite being at loss of how to handle him at first.

Her heart constricted at how unfair it was that two people so suited to be parents could not raise their son together, that Aramis could not sing his son to sleep, that even Anne had to steal time to be with him.

Almost as if her thoughts had summoned her, though knowing it must have been the Dauphin's cries, Anne came into the room for the second time that night, but her son had started to quiet down by then. Constance laid a hand on Anne's arm. "Marie-Catherine has him well taken care of, Majesty," she assured her, and gently started to guide her away, taking the candle from her other hand as she did. "It's time you got some rest. You're no good to him if you're half dead on your feet."

After a final look at her son, Anne turned to Constance and gave a slight nod of her head, allowing her to lead her out of the nursery.

Once in Anne's bedroom, Constance set the candle down on the small table next to the prie dieu, then took Anne's robe from her and draped it over the back of a chair. She then waited for Anne to get into bed before lifting the chair up and bringing it over so she could sit across from her.

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting with you," Constance simply replied.

"For how long?"

"The whole night if I have to."

"The Dauphin-"

"Is in good hands," Constance assured her, confident in Marie-Catherine's capabilities. "And I can check on him later if you'd like, but I don't want you to leave this bed without getting some rest. Now I may not be able to sing to you like Marie-Catherine or Aramis, but I can certainly keep you company."

The corner of Anne's lips quirked up. "What do you mean, sing to me like Aramis?"

"Oh," said Constance, not completely aware that she had included that reference, nor how she should answer. Agnes and Henry were technically Anne's relatives, with Henry being the rightful King of France, but Anne surely didn't know that, and Constance didn't think it was right for her to reveal such a secret. "We were helping a young widow once, and she was traveling with her little baby boy" she said, deciding to just keep the details vague, "Aramis had taken him off my hands at one point and the babe started crying. He was quite lost at first, unsure of what to do. I told him to sing and he went into this jaunty folk song about someone climbing then falling from an apple tree, and all the while he was sort of dancing around the room with him." She imitated how he had dipped and rocked the baby, and was glad to see Anne smiling. Shaking her head, Constance chuckled at the memory. "And sure enough it worked."

"He's a natural," said Anne, and Constance hummed in agreement. Anne looked to the side then as she smiled to herself. "When he rescued us from Marmion's men, I showed the Dauphin to him, and I could see the uncertainty on our son's face; who is this man covered with cuts and dirt and sweat smiling down on me and holding my hand? Then Aramis took him into his arms, and I worried that he would start fussing as we tried to sneak away, but he never made a sound. I like to think that he could tell that there was a connection between them, that this man loved him and would protect him...and perhaps he wanted to be as brave as his father too."

Turning onto her side, Anne slid further down under the covers and laid her head on the pillow. She looked up at Constance. "He would have been a wonderful father," she said, dropping her gaze, a wistful look on her face.

Constance smiled sympathetically and nodded her head as she glanced to the side. When d'Artagnan told her of Aramis' promise to God, she knew it had been for them, for Anne and their son. _You're safe now, Majesty, you're both safe_. And that meant he had to fulfill his part of the bargain, even though it also meant leaving them. "He _is_ a wonderful father," she whispered, and looked back over at Anne to see if she had heard her, but her eyes were closed and her features were relaxed in slumber. Constance sighed, happy to see that her friend had finally succumbed to her need to sleep. Hopefully her dreams tonight would be of what could have been with Aramis, and not what could have been with Rochefort.

Shifting on the chair, she pulled Anne's robe down and draped it over herself as a blanket. The nights were starting to get chilly and she had left her shawl in the nursery. She would check on Marie-Catherine and the Dauphin later, but for now she would stay with Anne and allow herself to get her own rest.

MMMMMMMMMM

The Dauphin was crying. Constance opened her eyes, blinking several times as she gathered her wits. Anne had stirred also, and was about to throw back the covers but Constance put a hand out. "Stay, please, Majesty, I'll check on him."

Heading into the nursery, Constance saw Marie-Catherine bent over the crib, speaking softly to the Dauphin, who was now emitting little murmurs. The woman looked up at her. "Sorry, did he wake Her Majesty? He kicked off his blanket."

Going over to the crib, Constance looked in and saw the Dauphin's eyes opening and closing as he fell back asleep. Perhaps it was the lack of light, but she could swear they had gotten darker, and she wondered if they would become brown like his father's rather than the grey-blue of his mother's. _At least the King also has brown eyes._

Marie-Catherine had a hand on his chest, her thumb slowly stroking back and forth to help settle him. "I can see she cares a great deal about him."

"He's all she has, really,' said Constance. "Well, I mean, she has us, but-"

"But we can be sent away," Marie-Catherine answered sadly.

Constance nodded. They could try to be there for Anne and protect her, but they were still servants, and she was but a cloth merchant's wife and even now only the wife of a musketeer. Reaching into the crib, she brushed a knuckle against the Dauphin's plump cheek. It was him who protected Anne from the King and court, who kept her going.

"He is important to France, but he is precious to her," Marie-Catherine added, and Constance knew for sure then that she would take good care of him, that she wasn't just someone seeking a position at court again.

"I should get back to Her Majesty," Constance told her, and gave her a small smile before retrieving her shawl and returning to Anne.

She was sitting up against the pillows when Constance came back into the room.

"He's fine, just kicked his blankets off," said Constance, knowing Anne would ask.

"You don't have to stay with me," Anne told her as she sat back down in the chair.

"You've been through an ordeal, Majesty, you're still recovering."

"And what about him?" Anne countered. "He's been through an ordeal too. I left him in her care, and allowed them to keep him from me."

Constance tried to interrupt and reiterate that the fault was not with her. "You couldn't have-"

Anne was shaking her head. "I could hear him crying, even as Marguerite assured me he was being taken care of I could hear him crying. And then, and then they could have killed him; what if she had dropped the bottle into his hands, or knocked his crib over as she fell, and what if Rochefort, what if Rochefort…" Anne swallowed, her face pinched as tears gathered in her eyes. "I can't lose him too," she squeaked out in a high voice before she finally succumbed to tears.

"Oh," Constance cooed as she moved off the chair to sit on the bed and take Anne into her arms. So it wasn't just the nightmares of the attack that had been keeping her from sleeping, but the fear of something happening to her son.

Like she did in the immediate aftermath of Rochefort's attack, Constance held Anne as she cried into her shoulder, all the while stroking her hair and pressing comforting kisses to the top of her head.

"He's safe, Majesty, you're both safe," she murmured into Anne's hair once she started to calm down, echoing what Aramis had said before he left. "He's safe and healthy and strong."

Sniffling, Anne nodded against her shoulder. "He is strong," she said, "like his fa-"

"Like his mother," Constance interjected, squeezing her arm. Anne had endured so much in her life, and continued to carry on despite the many blows that have been dealt to her, she just needed to be reminded of her own strength, and not only for her own sake, but for her son's.

Taking an end of her shawl, she offered it to Anne, who used it to dry her eyes. Her breathing remained shaky, and Constance rubbed her back a little more.

Anne looked up and gave her a wavering smile. "I'm so lucky to have you, Constance."

Constance smiled warmly in return, and after giving Anne's arm another squeeze, started to pull away.

Anne grasped her forearm to stop her. "Could you...just for tonight, could you...hold me?"

Constance's heart broke at the request. She thought of being in d'Artagnan's arms, of feeling safe and loved. "Of course." Of course she would give that to Anne.

MMMMMMMMMM

"D'Artagnan!"

Constance woke with a start, her heart racing as her breaths came in ragged gasps. Another nightmare of the executioner. Another nightmare of looking for d'Artagnan between the slats and him not being there.

Blinking, she took in her surroundings; the blue and gold curtains of the four-poster bed, the softness of the sheets she lay in. Once her breathing was steadier, she turned her head to look over at Anne. Both of them had rolled onto their backs in their sleep but Constance's arm still partially remained under Anne. She flexed her fingers as she regained feeling in her hand and then slowly slid her arm out from under Anne before turning onto her side, away from Anne. She took a shuddering breath as a tear escaped her eye. She wiped it away, angry to have been so affected by a dream. Anne couldn't see her like this, she had to be strong for her, for d'Artagnan, for herself.

She had taken to wearing one of his shirts to bed after he left for the front, the scent of him comforting her. She didn't have it tonight though, to chase the nightmares away.

Sniffling, she wiped the side of her face against the pillow, and pulled the sheet over her shoulder as she tried to settle back to sleep. She heard the rustling of sheets a second later and then felt Anne's hand on her arm. The bed dipped as Anne shifted closer until she was hugging her. Finding Constance's hand, Anne gently squeezed it, wordlessly offering her support, and Constance grasped her fingers to express her gratitude. They both had ghosts to battle with, they both had to carry on without the men they loved, they both had to start again.

**Author's Note:**

> Historical background/inspiration:
> 
> "Anne was clothed in a flowing gown of royal purple velvet trimmed with ermine and embellished with gold fleur-de-lis. The crown was so heavy she had to steady it with her hand to keep it balanced atop her head" - _Inglorious Royal Marriages_ by Leslie Carroll
> 
> "The marriage was celebrated with a nuptial mass in the cathedral Saint André of Bordeaux on November 25, 1615. During the two-hour ceremony...the king often looked at the new queen, smiling. And she, 'weighed down with robes and diamonds and pouring sweat,' could not keep herself from smiling back at him" - _Louis XIII: The Making of a King_ by Elizabeth Wirth Marvick
> 
> Françoise de Lansac was the royal governess of Louis XIV (and his brother) since Louis was born (1638) until Louis XIII died (1643). She was related to Richelieu, and in 1638 Anne's household was reorganized by Louis and Richelieu, replacing everyone they considered more loyal to Anne than them, which is when she got the job. Marie-Catherine de Sénécey served as one of Anne's ladies-in-waiting from 1626-1638 and was then banished from court in the aforementioned purge. When Anne became regent in 1643, she brought back Marie-Catherine and made her royal governess, replacing Françoise.
> 
> A/N: Title and lyrics at the beginning is from the song "Start" by Ellie Goulding feat. Serpentwithfeet


End file.
